Wedding Fever
by Fizzy Starburst
Summary: When Lunt and Ellen tied the knot, the reception became the breeding ground for wedding fever. This is the tale of how it swept up two Veggies, and why they need to do something abut it.


The sounds of cheesy 90s pop groups all seemed to blend together after a while. The afternoon had been magical experience verifying her belief in true love and all of that sappy emotional stuff she gushed over while in her right mind.

But she was no longer in her right mind. It was the evening, night, maybe wee hours of the morning? And yes, she had been drinking. She wasn't entirely _drunk _but she had had enough to make her reaction time a little slower than it normally was. Being single at a wedding, especially a wedding you had RSVPed to as a couple, was absolutely no fun at all.

She was almost ready to grab her jacket, call a cab and turn in for the night. When suddenly "I've been sitting there for like EVER and you won't talk to me." She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"You wanted me to talk to you?" she asked, her voice tinged with hurt "That's odd. Lately you've been avoiding me at all costs."

Larry pouted. "Hey, look." His pout turned into a frown. She wasn't looking. He gently grasped the redhead's chin and spun it towards him "I said look!" he argued. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't not talk to you. It's mean. And I know that now!"

Sighing Petunia nodded. "I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for everything."

For a moment, Larry had a horrifying realization that there was a glimmer of hope. Before the logical part of his brain could catch up, the alcohol began to speak for him. "Everything everything?"

"Everything everything." She agreed, nodding smally. "I shoulda took the blame from the beginning. You never tried to leave."

"Can we like, not talk about that anymore?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably, before ultimately deciding to climb onto the bar stool next to hers. He had had about as much to drink as she did, she concluded, due to the delayed amount of time it took to get him up there, but also added with the fact that his balance had been steady the entire time. "We both want to move on from it, don't we? So why don't we just do it?"

Petunia considered it for a moment. After ultimately deciding he had a point, she nodded, and took a sip of her cocktail before changing the course of the conversation completely. "So um, you look good tonight, by the way. Like...really good."

He smiled smally. It was genuine, not at all smug. "Thanks. I actually shaved for once."

"I can tell." She smiled back. "Not that I don't dig the facial hair, but, you know…" her voice trailed off a bit. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going with this. "…you rock the clean-shaven look really well. Especially in the tux. Got kind of a James Bond thingie going."

"Aw," Larry's cheeks went red at the comment "Now you're just making stuff up."

Petunia shook her head. "Am not." She protested like a child.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked, in an accusatory but clearly jovial tone. "Why would the prettiest girl here be giving me compliments, hmm?"

The redhead scoffed. "Ya know, I'd almost think you still liked me or something."

Larry frowned, although Petunia couldn't tell if the pain was real or mock. "What's that supposed to mean? Me comin' over here, wantin' to talk to ya, tellin' ya how gosh darn pretty you are, and you think…" he blinked, and even in her slightly intoxicated state, Petunia could tell he was being genuine. "…you don't think I still like you? Sweetie…" he murmured, reaching over to pet her head, as if she was a cat "You know…you know! You know if I didn't like ya anymore…all this would be so much easier…"

She laughed girlishly as he continued to stroke her head, though she was sure that was the alcohol's fault rather than her own. Sighing in contentment, she then looked up at Larry and asked "But do you still _like _me…or…do you still….ya know…?"

A giggle escaped his lips. Petunia always loved how he giggled rather than chuckled. "You still can't say it, can you?" he shook his head in mock condescension.

"That doesn't answer my question." She pouted.

Larry stopped petting her head and sighed. "I dunno."

"Oh." She replied simply. The answer he gave was fair, she reasoned. Still, it was a little too vague for her liking. It wasn't solid enough of a no to break her heart again, but it wasn't a yes, either. There was a good chance her feelings weren't reciprocated.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly concerned. It wasn't like Petunia to give a one syllable answer. Usually she rambled to the point where you almost had no choice but to tune her out. Her not talking was weirding him out a little.

Petunia turned away from the cucumber, eyes fixated on the drink before as she took a large gulp of the teal blue concoction before muttering "I'm still in love with you, dummy."

Larry's entire face immediately lit up. "You said it."

"I said what?" Petunia asked, eyes scrunching in confusion.

"You said the L word." He smiled, his voice quiet. It was a content kind of happy, not a loud one that attracted attention. But that didn't take away from just how intensely he felt it.

Petunia frowned. Had she said it? "Huh." She stated simply. "I guess I did." She nodded, before taking another drink of whatever it was she was drinking. She couldn't remember what it was called anymore.

And even if she wanted to remember, it wasn't going to come to her anytime soon, cause she had been forcibly yanked from her chair and onto the cucumber's lap as he began lightly kissing her face all over, whispering a small "I love you" in between them all.

And that was all it took.

Everything that happened after she kissed him was sort of a jumbled haze. There were a lot more kisses, a lot more "I love you"s, and a lot more drinks.

At one point, Ellen tossed the bouquet. Whether Petunia caught it or she simply found it later was beyond her, but she knows that it was in her possession at one point. Of course, her only clear evidence of this was that she distinctly remembered that that's the exact moment they decided they should get married.

She couldn't recall who suggested it, but it honestly hadn't mattered. It led to more kissing, of course.

At some point between going home and actually arriving home, they stopped at a gas station of some kind. That's where Larry bought the ring pop. "This is what makes it official!" he had cried in jubilation, before promptly kissing her all over her face once again.

The next thing she remembered was lying in bed with him, tasting his breath on her face, lazily laughing and naming their future children (he was really stuck on Gherkin, while she much preferred Art or Barney) between the slow kisses that graced those hours.

And then she woke up.

Her head was pounding, the sun was far too bright, and she wasn't even in her own bed. It took a moment for all the retrievable memories to flood back. Wincing in the sunlight that crept in from his window, she slowly turned to wear the cucumber lay. He had just woken up, too, from the looks of things.

"Good morning." He muttered quietly.

She nodded, giving him a small "Good morning." in return.

And then it was silent. The two shifted slightly, though they never made eye contact. Eventually, the silence was too much for the rhubarb to bare. Glancing over, she asked "So, what now?"

"Hmm?" Larry hummed lazily, shifting once more so he could properly look at her face without the sun giving him a migraine.

Petunia's voice was quiet, sure, and simple, as she asked the question that would change the course of everything "So, where do we go from here?"


End file.
